Musings
by SuNRisESuNSeT96
Summary: QLC: Padma and Parvati Patil. So alike, yet so different.


Words: 1298

**Musings**

Funerals are not meant to be happy affairs, quite the opposite in fact. And in her entire life, during the rare moments Padma thought of a funeral it was always raining. Dark clouds would cover the sky and all the water in the world would pour down, as if the universe herself was grieving.

Yet, on that day the sun shone brighter than ever, birds were singing and it was the perfect day. Except for the small fact that Padma was standing next to the newly covered grave of her father. She was numb. The two of them had always been at odds, he wanting to marry her off to the first person who to ask for her hand and she refusing to even meet any potential suitors, going to the clubs each night and waking up at someone else's bed each morning.

What was that saying again, "**Children begin by loving their parents and after a time the judge them and never forgive them**" or something? It was from a Muggle author and Padma had never been what you may call a Muggle-lover. There was something about this quote that had made her memorize it, though she was sure she had gotten it wrong somehow.

Soon, she was alone. Her husband (someone Papa had never approved of, despite the years he had known him) had taken their son to 'give her space' or something. Not that she needed any, sure he was her last living family member, but her father had made it perfectly clear that he didn't need a daughter like her, nor did he have one.

If there was one person Padma wished was here, it was Parvati. Sweet, kind, airheaded Parvati. Her twin sister, her other half, the one person she could always count on… until that day she couldn't anymore.

* * *

When she'd been younger and more naïve Padma liked to imagine the world as a fairytale with a happy ending despite all the hardships one may (and probably would) have to endure in their life. That time had been many years ago and she had long since forgotten such notions.

Unlike her sister (and no, they were never identical, regardless what other people thought) she wasn't into romantic stories where the beautiful maiden falls in love with a handsome lord and they live happily ever after. Padma found them boring and stupid. Why would a witch wait for a man to save her? Couldn't she free herself from the dark tower or the cold dungeon? How could any self-respecting woman just sit there and wait for a man to do everything, hanging limply at his arm and fainting all the time? Ridiculous!

But then again, wasn't that all Parvati had ever wanted: a rich husband to take care of her, buy her pretty dresses and nice jewelry and take her out to dances. During their fourth year that was Harry Potter and he turned out to be as disappointing date as Ronald Weasley. One of the few positive **changes** that came out from the entire year was that Parvati finally stopped crushing over the Boy-Who-Lived (and talking out Padma's ears with useless gossip about him). No more fantasy stories about big white mansions, balls, and kids.

Then came Jackson Weatherly in their fifth year. He wasn't nearly as handsome, as rich or as famous as Harry Potter was even with all the propaganda against him. Jackson was blond (a rather weird dirty blond color that wasn't really blond if one were to ask Padma) with ordinary brown eyes and two years older Hufflepuff. Her sister and he went out twice and kissed only one time (which was not really a kiss since there was no tongue involved, though Parvati kept insisting otherwise) and that was it: the Gryffindor girl was totally and completely in love with him. The Ravenclaw started avoiding her sister if only to spare herself all that useless chatter about the future and the perfect life they'd built together (ignoring the fact that he wasn't all that rich).

At that time, Padma had already had her first boyfriend and her first kiss and had found it all awfully dull and pointless.

"… _and we'll go on the best parties and everyone will look at us and think… Padma. Padma!"_

"… _Ah. did you say something?"_

"_Were you listening to me at all?"_

"… _No."_

"_Padmaa," and yes, there was a whine there regardless how much she denied it. "Can't you stop reading this blasted book for one second?"_

"_We have a test tomorrow and I really need to study," and not to listen to your repetitive fantasies. _

"_Fine then, have it you way," and with a flick of her (unbraided) hair Parvati stood up and left the library. Padma watched the retreating figure of her twin for a moment, before she returned to her rather boring book with a sign. Parvati really needed to get her head out of the clouds. _

Then there was Ron Weasley, the worst possible date ever in the history of the worst dates (if Padma could say so herself). Ron Weasley who kept trying to suck off Parvati's face (and didn't they realize that there was a war going on out there).

At least, despite how sickingly **sweet** they were (**like honey**, which just keeps getting in your teeth and you can't get it off), there were no 'And they lived happily after' fantasies that Padma had to listen that year.

And now, now she wished she could go back to that happier time.

After the war and the horrible, horrible seventh year Parvati was never the same. There was something, a part of her that was missing and for the life of her, Padma could never say what exactly. Perhaps it was the childish naïve part of Parvati kept on believing in happy endings even when things looked so final and bad. There was no more gossip, boys, lipsticks, and make-up. She was just broken, going through the same motions day in and day out. That person that lived in Padma's apartment for over a year wasn't her sister anymore, it was a stranger wearing a familiar face.

It was two years after the Final Battle when Padma had gone home from work to find the place cold and dark. Thousands ideas had rushed through her head, each worst than the other. Had she been abducted, raped, tortured, beaten up?

Then she found the letter and her whole world crumbled apart…

* * *

Finally, Padma turned around and made her way out of the graveyard, her white silk robes almost shining from the sun. Had she stayed even a moment longer, though, she would have seen a person, so like her in appearance, coming from the other side of the graveyard. The hair would be shorter and the face older, but it would still be that same face that greats her every day from the mirror.

Alas, it was not meant to be. And that person came and went away, the two never meeting again.

* * *

_**My dearest Padma,**_

_**I am sorry for what I am about to do, because I now how much it would hurt you but you need to understand that I cannot go on like this anymore. I have to leave this place. I have to leave this country and all of this behind. What I saw during that last year at Hogwarts still haunts me. I cannot sleep at night and during the day I feel as if someone is about to come and curse me again. **_

_**I wish I was strong like you, but we both know I am not. You were always the better one of the two of us and I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me. When you read this, I will not be in Britain anymore and this may be the last time you hear of me again.**_

_**Love,**_

_**Your sister, Parvati. **_


End file.
